Unseen Glory
by rabidcrazygirl
Summary: Jump the Shark spoilers Susanne Modeski's POV. Really, that explains it all.


**This fic is set just a day or two after "Jump the Shark," that immensely depressing and angsty episode. So, to go along with it, I wrote a depressing and angsty fic. Funny how that works.**

**Yes, so this has spoilers for "Jump the Shark." If you don't know how that ep ends, and you don't want to know how it ends, don't read this. But if you do, go ahead! And, just for shits and giggles, why not review at the end? Be daring!**

**Disclaimer: Look at every other fanfic on this ENTIRE WEBSITE. And if you tell me you don't know what to put here, then I have no respect for you. None at all.**

You were never the kind of guy that I'd imagined myself falling for. No, Susanne Modeski was going to end up marrying a rich and successful scientist, right after she won the Nobel Prize and discovered the cure for cancer. Susanne Modeski was going to live in a large house on the shores of Cape Cod and have three children and a dog. The Susanne Modeski that I thought I was would never have considered a paranoid computer geek as a possibility.

But when I met you, all those years ago, everything changed. You believed me and, what's more, you went out of your way to _help _me. I know that you were infatuated with me--but what was strange for me, was that I found myself falling equally hard for you. And ten years later, when we met again, I still hadn't gotten over you. If you'd come away with me, I don't know what kind of life we would have had. It would probably have been better than the life we ended up living. But I'm not sure that it would have been completely right. You couldn't live if you knew that somewhere out there there was a government conspiracy waiting to be exposed. And I guess that I felt the same way.

Those years that I was in hiding-- those were some of the worst years of my life. Every day I woke up knowing that I could be killed just as I stepped out the door. Every day I went to bed knowing that that night, I might never open my eyes again.

You were what kept me going forward. When I felt like giving up and just ending the uncertainty and the pain, your face appeared before my eyes. I could hear you say my name in that soft, sweet voice of yours. And I kept going, in the hopes that I would see you again someday soon.

I always thought that you'd be there. I always thought that if I called you, you'd come running, tie flapping over your shoulder and suit jacket flying behind you. I think you were my Superman. A gangly paranoid conspiracy-theorist was my Superman.

I guess something or someone conspired against us.

Late last night, I got the worst telephone call I have ever received. Rolling over in bed and picking up the receiver, I uttered a very sleepy, "Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded familiar...but far sadder and much more sober than I remembered. "Susanne Modeski? This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI. I'm not sure if you remember me, but we were in Las Vegas at about the same time."

Of course I remembered her. "Yes, hello," I said, waking up a bit. "What's this call about?"

I think that that wins the award for the most blatantly naive question ever asked. "What's this call about?" I really should have known. Why else would anyone from my hidden past try to contact me, unless it was about you?

Agent Scully told me that she found a bundle of letters in your possession that were addressed to me. I figure that you'd written them, but didn't have the courage to send them. Do you know how much I would have loved to have _some _kind of communication with you? Do you know how long I'd wished for a letter from you in the mail? Do you know how much easier it would have made living?

I'm sitting on the cold, hard, snow-covered ground of Arlington Cemetary. One of the caretakers has already driven past me twice, giving me a strange look. He probably thinks that I'm some sort of vandal. I give a weak, cynical smile, and slowly turn to face you.

A slab of granite meets my eyes, cold and hard and unforgiving-- the opposite of what you were. Etched into the surface are the words, "JOHN FITZGERALD BYERS." I smile again. It's more than you could have hoped for and everything you could have wished for.

The letters are resting in my hands, tied up with a ribbon that I provided. I hold them against my chest as tears slip silently down my face. I didn't think that I had anything left to cry. Obviously I was wrong. For you, I could cry forever.

**I've never really realized how incredibly fun angst is to write! Usually I only do fluffy stuff, but angst is so melodramatic and greatI should do it more often!**

**Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease review!**


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